Hard Habit to Break
by Kate Sherrard
Summary: Connie and Michael's past...


Part 1 

'You did well in there' his silky voice wafted down the ward towards her and she felt all her nerve endings tingle in his presence. Despite the fact that he was her boss – her married boss – and therefore completely off limits, she couldn't help but be attracted to him. There was something in his glittering blue eyes that she found utterly irresistible and when he smiled she could feel herself melting from the inside out. Now, as he stood behind her, his warm breath on her neck, she felt her knees buckle slightly as she turned to him, basking in his praise as a seductive smile crept across her features.

'I had a good teacher' she replied slowly, her voice a little huskier leaving him in no doubt that she wanted him. A glance downwards told her that he wanted her too and at this her heart did a little somersault with joy. She had never doubted for a moment that she would have him – she always got what she wanted – but this was certainly a good sign that things were moving in the right direction His wife was merely an inconvenience and she felt no guilt about coveting another woman's husband. You only had to see them together at hospital functions to see that they had no future – the constant sniping between them no longer bore any affection but instead, genuine irritation. She was certain that the reason he worked late was to avoid his wife and, she liked to think, to spend some more time in her company.

'Not that good. Your skills are exceptional' he told her with real warmth in his voice and placed a hand on her arm. At his touch she felt small shocks travel around her body and she stifled a gasp but from his expression she knew that her attempt to conceal it had been in vain. He had noticed her reaction to his touch and seemed a little surprised.

'Thank you' she replied graciously and her smile broadened to her natural grin, all attempts at sultry suddenly forgotten in the face of his compliments.

'You're very welcome' he gave her a friendly wink as he walked away into his office leaving her waiting open mouthed in his wake. For a few moments she stood staring open mouthed at the plywood door, feeling an almost irresistible urge to go in and have him on the desk – she didn't think she would hear any complaint from him – but she didn't. She hadn't got where she was today by being rash and careless. She would have him but she would bide her time first. When she had him it was going to be romantic, beautiful and perfect. It wasn't going to be a quick sordid shag on his desk while praying that they weren't interrupted by any colleagues. Finally tearing her eyes away from the door to his office she made her way to the changing room to prepare for the Charity Ball they were to attend that evening. She'd had her dress planned for weeks and she knew that once she was dressed up he wouldn't stand a chance of resisting her, even in the presence of his wife – she was certain they'd be able to ditch her for long enough to get to know one another a whole lot better.

Two hours later she was applying the finishing touches to her make up, gazing with satisfaction at the reflection that gazed back at her. Dark hair teased into small flicks, full lips painted with red lipstick and a dark red halter neck dress all served to make the sight in the mirror very pleasing. She was dressed to kill and Michael Beauchamp wasn't going to know what had hit him. Slowly she stepped from the staff changing room into the corridor and saw him coming from his office looking gorgeous in a white dinner jacket. If she wasn't besotted before she certainly was now. Slowly she made her way across the ward, parading herself slowly past him, enjoying his expression of appreciation as he took in her appearance.

'You look fantastic Connie' he smiled and she returned his smile, knowing that he was right.

Part 2 

Michael watched her from a distance. She was toying with the stem of her wine glass, seemingly oblivious to his attentions as she chatted animatedly with another registrar. Behind him he became aware of Fiona hovering fretfully. Unlike Connie she was in no doubt as to where her husband's attentions lay.

'Have another drink' he muttered, pressing a champagne glass into her hand, his gaze not shifting from the enchanting sight of his registrar as his wife desperately fought for his attention.

'I don't want another drink' she spat angrily as he turned to her, a look of exhaustion on his face at the thought of yet another public row. They were getting to be far too common an occurrence these days 'will you dance with me?' she demanded and he looked her up and down, barely suppressing a wince. She was a mess – like mutton dressed as lamb. She was clothed in a red dress not unlike Connie's except in price – while his wife's was designer, Connie's was from Top Shop – but it clung to her round frame in all the wrong places and did nothing for a figure that was heading south in any case. Her make up was way over the top and a look at her expensively coloured and styled hair made him think that her stylist really should be shot. The more he found himself comparing his wife to Connie the more unfavourable his assessment of his wife became. Her ankles were chunky in her black stiletto heeled shoes whereas Connie's were lean in dark red strappy sandals. Her height – she was only about half an inch shorter than her husband – made her seem ungainly when placed beside Connie's petite elegance. The fact that she messed around doing an inconsequential job as a window dresser while Connie saved lives completed his damning appraisal of her.

'I don't think so' he replied quietly before making his way across the dance floor to Connie 'dance with me' he whispered in her ear and placed his hands lightly around her waist as he flashed a possessive smile at another cardiothorasic surgeon who was doubtless hoping to lure the talented young surgeon onto his team, something that Michael knew would happen over his dead body.

'Of course' she agreed readily and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor, both of them vaguely aware of his wife's eyes burning into them as they started a slow sway in time with the music.

'You look beautiful' he whispered as he turned her so her back was to Fiona and she didn't have to look at the other woman's furious glares.

'So you said' she whispered in low, husky tones that immediately started his heart racing as the final number from the band drew to a close and Fiona started to stride towards them, her mind focussed on getting her husband away from his beautiful colleague before she enticed him to break at least one of his marriage vows.

'Time to go home sweetheart' Fiona spat bitterly, giving Connie a disgusted glance as she made her retreat to the far side of the room, a smile of satisfaction creeping across her mouth as Michael fell under her spell.

'Already' he didn't bother to mask the disappointment in his voice as Connie slipped out of the hall and into a waiting cab

'It is gone midnight' Fiona pointed out as he hailed the cab that would take them home and they slid into the back, immediately descending into silence that they knew would last until he left for work the next morning.

Part 3 

He watched her across the ward as she sat with the elderly woman who had just been admitted, patiently explaining to her the surgery which they intended to perform, her beautiful and clever hands waving animatedly as she described the procedure in layman's terms. Eventually she stood up, clearly satisfied that her patient had understood her, and moved slowly towards the nurses station, plucking a chocolate from the box that sat on the desk and slipping it gently between her full, dark lips and chewing it slowly as she flicked through patient notes, resolutely refusing to catch his eye but instead giving a coy smile in his direction. Almost involuntarily he felt himself crossing the ward towards her, drawn to her by a force that he was powerless to resist but she didn't seem to notice until he was standing beside her, his breathing lustful and uneven as he took in the perfect body encased in a neat black suit.

'Is there a problem Mr Beauchamp?' she enquired politely as he stood gazing appreciatively at her 'Is it a patient?'

'Can I see you in my office for a moment?' he managed to ask and she shrugged and followed him through the ward to the small room that was his inner sanctum.

'What did you want to see me about Mr Beauchamp?' she asked as he shut the door behind them and turned to her, placing his hands lightly on her hips as he drew her towards him

'Last night' he paused for a moment 'you looked spectacular'

'Well thank you' she gave a small smile at this but made no gesture as to whether she was comfortable with his hands being placed as they were on her hips. She seemed completely oblivious to the gesture.

'I was wondering…' he trailed off nervously as she placed a finger gently on his lips to silence him

'Let me' she took a deep breath before continuing 'I find you very attractive Michael, I don't think that's any secret. The fact is that you're married. I don't want whatever it is between us to become sordid or reduce it to the odd faceless session in your office when neither of us have anything better to do' she paused for breath for a moment 'I think we're both above that but that doesn't change the fact that I'd like there to be something between us. I'm not asking you to leave your wife for me but I won't be treated like a cheap commodity. Is that clear?'

'Yes' he nodded as she gently moved her hands down and removed them from her hips, giving him a smile as she did so.

'Just think about it' she told him warmly and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek before returning to the ward as if nothing had happened between them.

For the rest of the day he maintained a silence that unnerved her slightly. Perhaps her honesty had been miscalculated and she had frightened him off. It seemed somehow unlikely but it concerned her; she didn't think she could bear to have destroyed the easy friendship that they had built up. Even in theatre the atmosphere between them was unavoidable and on several occasions it had unnerved her to the extent that her normally impeccable surgical skills were distinctly diminished. She knew that he had noticed this as on more than one occasion he reprimanded her for it. Eventually the end of the day came and she sloped off to her locker feeling utterly miserable and more than ready for a stiff drink in the bar. She was emerging from the changing room when he called her name, slightly breathless from his brisk jog across the ward to catch her as she turned nervously towards him she saw that he was smiling equally nervously.

'I was wondering…' he paused for a moment before continuing 'would you like to come for dinner?'

'Dinner?' a small smile crept across her mouth at his offer and she resisted the urge to do a little victory dance 'Dinner would be lovely, thank you' she agreed as he led the way from the ward to his waiting car.

Part 4 

Throughout the meal Michael was a perfect gentleman. It seemed as if he thought he had a point to prove and he did. He had to prove that they could be together without being embroiled in a seedy affair. That just because he was married didn't mean that anything between them would inevitably be cheap and tacky. She had told him that she believed that they could have such a relationship and now it was up to him to prove her right. Neither of them felt any guilt – Connie didn't know Fiona nearly well enough to feel much remorse at borrowing her husband occasionally and Michael knew her far too well. Well enough to know that the love that had once been between them was now long gone and an uneasy state of dislike remained in it's place. Well enough to know that their relationship was on it's last legs and all Connie would do was push it finally over the edge, something that would if anything be a relief.

By the time he asked for the bill the air was thick with tension between them, both of them wondering what would happen next, both wanting the other to make the next move. Eventually she took the initiative and reached out, taking his hand as she led him from the restaurant to his waiting car and settled him into the passenger seat. It took him a couple of moments to realise that this was because while he had been steadily sinking the double scotches she hadn't touched a drop all night. He watched with fascination as she moved round to the driver seat and slid it forward so her legs reached the pedals. Once she was satisfied with the controls she turned the key in the ignition and slowly inched the car from it's space, her attention focussed completely on the road. She didn't even seem to notice his gaze that settled in her lap where her skirt had ridden up during the short drive. She drove fast – too fast – but at no time did she appear out of control of the vehicle.

She didn't speak again until they drew up outside her flat and she turned off the car before turning to him with a slightly malevolent smile on her face.

'Well, this is me' she told him softly 'you've drunk far too much to drive yourself home so I suppose you'll have to come up'

'I suppose I will' he agreed with a smile as they climbed from the car and she let them into the hallway and then into her small but immaculate apartment.

'Coffee?' she asked as she made her way into the kitchen, switching on the bright halogen lights that lit up the living room as she went.

'Please' he agreed following her and wrapping his arms around her, the whiskey giving him the Dutch courage he lacked sober, as she busied herself with cups and coffee filters, apparently not noticing his proximity until he planted a kiss on her neck and he felt her shudder lightly beneath his touch. Despite her obvious arousal she continued making the coffee and paid him no more attention until she had two cups of steaming liquid in front of her. Only then did she turn in his arms so that she was facing him and let him plant a gentle kiss on her lips, licking them afterwards and tasting stale Scotch, the result of his excess earlier in the evening.

'You do know that if we do this your marriage vows are officially fucked' she pointed out slowly and he nodded that he understood perfectly 'You won't wake up in the morning and think that this is a horrific mistake' she continued and he responded with a shake of his head, his desire for her rendering speech suddenly impossible 'well then' she kissed him lightly on the lips and gave a small smile 'I suggest we take this into the bedroom' she finished and took his hand, leading him through the living room to her bedroom.

Part 5

Three thirty am. More than late enough for him to leave Connie who was sleeping soundly in his arms and head home to his wife. The later it got the more angry Fiona would be when he did show up so he thought he had better leave sooner rather than later. Stiffly he eased his arm out from beneath his sleeping lover and rolled away from her, eventually swinging his legs from the bed and standing up, looking to see where his clothes had landed when Connie had torn them from him 5 hours earlier, a search severely hampered by the fact that the room was in complete darkness and he was reluctant to switch on the light and wake her up. Eventually, driven by desperation, he moved into the en-suite bathroom and switched on the light, recoiling in pain as the bright halogen light hit his hungover brain.

'Fuck' he muttered as he staggered backwards as if punched and heard her murmur softly behind him

'Alka Seltzer, top shelf' she grumbled sleepily 'and be a bit quieter please. Some of us were having a perfectly nice dream about George Clooney'

'George Clooney?' he was intrigued just as she knew he would be. Even in her current state of semi-consciousness she knew just how to play her man

'If you can be married to another woman, I can have dreams about sex with unobtainable film stars' she told him with a sleepy chuckle in her voice 'if you're looking for your shirt it's in the lounge'

'Thanks' he smiled and left the room, returning moments later buttoning his shirt to find her fast asleep again 'I'll see you at work' he whispered, kissing her lightly on the head causing her to murmur again

'Doubtless' she replied, stretching a hand from the bed and gripping his tightly 'I enjoyed tonight'

'So did I' he agreed, crouching down beside the bed so he was able to look into her bleary eyes 'We should do it again some time'

'Definitely' she nodded, sitting up slowly and releasing a low groan as she saw the time 'I haven't seen three thirty in the morning since I was an SHO' she added as she stood up and pulled on her dressing gown

'Sorry' he felt a blush creep up his face at the realisation that he had woken her 'I tried to be quiet but…'

'You're just a naturally noisy person. It's okay; I'm probably due a night shift. This is good practice'

'Well that's good then' he laughed with relief that she didn't seem to be angry with him as she padded sleepily through to the kitchen and switched on the kettle, busying herself making another cup of coffee, the two from the night before sitting cold and forgotten beside the kettle.

'One for the road?' she offered, gesturing to the kettle but he shook his head and she replaced the second mug in the cupboard

'Fiona will go spare' he told her by way of explanation 'the later I get home the more angry she'll be'

'Right' Connie's voice was toneless and she didn't look at him, refusing to get upset by this. They'd agreed that it would be nothing serious so she really had no right to be unpleasant about his wife, regardless of how little she liked the other woman.

'Next time I'll think of a decent excuse and stay the whole night, I promise' he told her, kissing her softly on the lips and feeling her melt into his arms 'I'll see you later'

'Yes' she nodded, kissing him softly on the lips as he pulled away and grabbed his coat 'keys' she reminded him and tossed him the keys to his Jag before padding to the door to see him off

'Bye then' he called behind him as he got to his car and saw her still standing in the doorway of her small, ground-floor flat

'Bye' she gave a small wave and half shut the door as he climbed into the driver seat and pulled away, disappearing too quickly into the night. As he drove out of sight she slammed the door to the flat angrily and smacked it hard with the palm of her hand out of temper. In one night he had gotten far too close to her. Connie had been with married men before and she had a rule; when she started to wish that they wouldn't go home in the morning it was getting too serious. With Michael she had only managed one night but she didn't want to end it. Michael was the first man she had ever been with that she wanted to hang on to and it frightened her, especially since he was not hers to keep.

Part 6

'I'd like a word' Michael's deep, authoritative tones cut through the silence of the treatment room, where she had retreated to complete some paperwork and hide from her boss, like a knife. From a look at his face she saw that he wasn't about to take no for an answer. He knew that she had been avoiding him and now he wanted an explanation for her behaviour.

'Go on' she didn't look up from the referral she was writing, refusing to meet his eyes, knowing that as soon as she did she would be back on the slippery slope to sleeping with him.

'In private' he sighed tensely, glancing furtively behind him to make sure that he was still without an audience

'This is a private room' she pointed out with an innocent smile that said "whatever you want to say, you can say it here".

'My office' he told her, ignoring the heavy implication in her words 'now'

'Fine' she stood up and threw her pen down in irritation, wanting it to be quite clear that she was not impressed at being dragged from her paperwork

'You've been avoiding me' he stated without preamble as he slammed the door behind them 'why?'

'I haven't been avoiding you' she rolled her eyes dramatically 'I've been busy. There is a world of difference, I assure you'

'You've been ignoring my phone calls' he accused and she shrugged as if his words simply rolled off her

'I haven't been answering the phone because I've been out. I have a life other than sitting by the phone waiting for you to call' she told him coldly although in fact she had been sitting by the phone with a tub of ice cream most nights, listening to his messages over and over until she fell into an uneasy sleep filled with dreams of her boss. This was not something she was willing to admit to anyone, especially not him.

'Well, just as long as we're clear' his voice was pinched and he began to show a great interest in the paperwork on his desk, refusing to meet her eye. If she didn't know better she'd say that he was hurt but she knew he couldn't be. Why would he? They'd been out once, had sex once and he was married. Why would he give a damn about a stupid one-night stand like her?

'Crystal' she snapped 'do you mind if I return to my paperwork'

'As a matter of fact' he stepped out from behind his desk and blocked her way with the bulk of his body 'I do' he finished, silencing her reply with a kiss.

'What was that?' she gasped as she pulled away having allowed him to kiss her for far longer than she had intended, her mind screaming that she must be insane, her heart screaming that she loved him and still other parts screaming that she should forget her pride and have him here and now on the desk.

'It was a kiss Connie' he said wearily 'it's what I've wanted to do to you every time I've seen you since that night'

'I thought' she paused for a moment 'this is wrong'

'Is it?' he put his arms around her and rested his hands in the small of her back as he gazed into her eyes 'It seems very right to me'

'You're married' she told him softly 'I don't get involved with married men'

'That's not what you were saying last week' he smiled but she shook her head and he was sure that he'd missed something vital, although he wasn't quite sure what.

'I sleep with married men but when it gets serious I end it' she paused 'frankly, I like you far too much to risk getting involved with you. If I do that I might get hurt…'

'You might not' he suggested gently and felt her stiffen beneath his touch as tension wracked her body

'I think I will Michael' she brushed him away 'and if I don't, Fiona will. I'm not sure I want that on my conscience'

'It won't be on your conscience, it will be on mine' he protested but she was already pulling out of his embrace 'please Connie'

'I can't do this Michael' she shook her head sadly 'I want to but I can't take the risk. I'm sorry' she pushed past him and out into the corridor, waiting until she was safely ensconced in the treatment room before she allowed the tears to fall.

Watching her leave Michael felt devastated. He wasn't sure if he loved her or if what he was feeling was simply his dented pride but he felt physical pain at her rejection, as if he had been punched hard in the chest.

'Wait' the words were out of his mouth before he realised that he was saying them but she ignored them and disappeared out of sight, back to the treatment room to continue her paperwork. She seemed genuinely unfazed by what had just happened between them. For a moment he contemplated following her lead and simply knuckling down and getting on with his work but he knew that he wouldn't be able to concentrate while his mind was consumed with Connie. Instead he followed her back to the treatment room and tapped nervously on the door, not sure what to say to change her mind, knowing that he had to try. To his surprise as he opened the door he found her not as he had suspected doing paperwork but instead, sobbing quietly to herself, one hand clamped over her mouth as if to stifle her distress.

'Connie?' he crossed the room and took her face in his hands, gently wiping away the tears that fell with his thumbs as he gazed into her beautiful dark eyes that were filled with sadness

'I'm sorry Michael' she sniffed hard and tried to compose herself but her eyes had other ideas and tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks, despite her best attempts to the contrary.

'It's okay' he whispered and kissed her gently on the lips, feeling relief surge through his body as she responded passionately, her hand clamped on the back of his head as she explored his mouth with her tongue.

'Don't let me regret this' she gasped as they pulled away, both breathing quickly from anticipation and desire

'I promise you won't regret a second of it' he told her, kissing her more softly on the lips as he backed from the room 'I'm going to call my wife. Tell her I have a conference this weekend and then I'm at your disposal for two whole days'

'You might live to regret that promise Mr Beauchamp' she laughed as she collected up her papers and followed him from the treatment room, a broad smile lighting up her features.

**Part 7**

**Their mouths were knocking together before they had even shut the door to her flat and within seconds they were on the sofa, her beneath him, writhing lightly under his touch as he planted light kisses from her neck down to her lower abdomen where his ministrations became less frantic and more tender, pausing only to smirk as she emitted a low groan of pleasure as he flicked his tongue in a slow line between her belly button and the top of her low-slung trousers. As he unzipped her trousers she pushed him from her, removing the trousers herself before pulling him back towards her, tearing his shirt from him and planting a gentle kiss on his smooth chest. For a moment she toyed with the top of his trousers and then she stopped as if physically restraining herself and walked into the kitchen, her normally steady hand trembling from desire and self-restraint.**

'**What?' she snapped as she caught him looking oddly at her**

'**I'm just trying to decide if you're a sadist or a masochist' he drawled conversationally 'because you're clearly desperate for one of us to suffer'**

'**This isn't about suffering' she sighed heavily 'it's about what I said in your office. I'm not in it for a quick fuck so we're going to do this properly'**

'**You want me to buy you dinner or something?' he gasped, mildly incredulous and wondering if this was another of her games 'I promise we'll do something afterwards'**

'**No, we'll do it first' she began to bang pans around the kitchen 'I'm making us something to eat and then we'll see what happens'**

'**Fine' he snapped irately as he shuffled into the bathroom to relieve himself of his arousal, half hoping that he was being teased and he would return to find her naked on the kitchen unit but the sound of her using what sounded like the blender suggested he wasn't going to be getting so lucky. **

**By the time he emerged from the bathroom several long moments later she was spooning what looked like pesto onto pasta, slamming the pans around in temper although he wasn't entirely sure what he had done to upset her. Slowly he moved to the fridge and produced the bottle of red wine they had picked up on their way home and poured two glasses, setting one down in each place before turning and watching her storm around the kitchen, her every movement fascinating him. **

'**Is there a problem?' he asked eventually as she laid the plates on the table and sat down**

'**We shouldn't have done that?' she muttered, carefully spooning pasta into her mouth, gesturing for him to start **

'**Why the hell not?' he asked tensely, thinking that it was an extremely fair question. He was beginning to wonder if he was going out with Dr Jekyll and Miss Hyde and whether he was making a huge mistake. Something had changed since she confessed that she really liked him. She had become more guarded and more demanding, as if she somehow had more to lose. **

'**I'm not a slut Michael' she paused 'I'm not going to drop my knickers every time you ask nicely'**

'**I wasn't asking nicely' a small smile played across his face and he reached out, taking her hand and squeezing it 'I wasn't really asking at all'**

'**No, you were taking…' she snapped, toying listlessly with her food 'you probably think I'm a bitch…'**

'**No, just insane' he replied, a note of warm humour in his voice 'but I can live with a little insanity. If it means so much to you, we can eat first and play later…'**

'**It's not just about the eating…' she took a deep breath, preparing to explain her reservations 'when I was young; my dad always had women on the side. They were a joke, to him as much as the rest of us. I can't be a joke to you, Michael; I need you to respect me'**

'**Connie…' he paused, letting out a nervous laugh, the level of baggage she carried frightening him slightly 'how could I ever not respect you – you're beautiful, intelligent and a far greater surgeon than I will ever be. The fact that I don't have to jump through hoops to get you into bed… well that's an asset, not a flaw'**

'**You were doing so well' she laughed, slightly unconvinced by his smooth talking, that was, for all she knew, a ruse to get her into bed 'I suppose I'll have to trust you' she kissed him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck as they made their way to the sofa, their dinners lying forgotten on the table. **

'**Is this okay then?' he glanced up, looking nervously into her eyes as he gently lifted the dark red top from her stomach and traced one finger across her body in lazy strokes that made her shudder. As she nodded the affirmative he moved his hand down lower and lower still until it was between her legs and she was breathless with anticipation 'what about this?' he paused with one finger poised millimetres from her clitoris and she replied by angling her hips so he had no choice but to touch her and as soon as contact was made she let out a small cry of pleasure that made him smile. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as he inched his fingers gently inside her, his free hand still running across her upper body, entirely independent of what his left hand was doing inside her. He bought her to the very edge of her orgasm and then he stopped, withdrawing his fingers and licking them slowly before moving astride her, gently entering her, pulling her close to him as they came together.**


End file.
